Still, if I’ve learned anything in the last few weeks, it’s that Aussies are nothing if not up-front.
As Julie approached the reception desk in the building foyer, the ebb and flow of people had left a void. There was only her and the receptionist. At least, so she first thought.
‘Miss Kershawe?’
The broadly smiling Chinese girl clearly knew that she could only be Julie Kershawe because she directed her around the reception area to the bank of lifts behind it in an elegant but very clear movement of her right hand. With a major Chinese population in Melbourne, it wasn’t her racial origins that set Julie into alert mode. Later, when she thought through her day, she acknowledged that it was the unlikely circumstances of one of the applicants for a middling administrative job in an organisation being met and whisked through the formalities of arrival in such a slick and professional manner. What limited experience she had told her that generally you were left to flounder in this situation, despite your potential employer’s pious protestations that it was a good test of character to see how you overcame the vagaries of organisational indifference to get to your interview.
As they entered the lift, the Chinese girl handed Julie an already prepared visitor’s identity badge. Used as she had been to looking for and seeking out anomalies in people’s behaviour and presentation, Julie knew that somehow this particular middling administrative job on offer was going to be different. But she didn’t have the time to generate this as more than an impression before she was in the interview room. And still there were no signs of the expected roomful of other nervous candidates; in fact there were no signs of any sort of anteroom. Julie’s level of alert cranked up. This was not looking like a normal interview at all.
The room that she was shown into immediately gave her a feeling of unreality. Her perception that something very unusual was going on was heightened. The Chinese girl disappeared as mysteriously as she had appeared. It felt almost James Bond-esque, but she didn’t really get time to consider whom and what she was being confronted with before the obvious dynamic of the situation forced her to concentrate.
The room was large and carpeted thickly, forcing her to pick her feet up to avoid catching her heels in its pile. The sense of unreality increased. The room was unlit. Whatever was decorating or furnishing the side walls and the rest of the room she didn’t register. She was drawn, as she realised she was supposed to be, towards the end of the room. The floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the end of the space with light. The table backing the window and the three people sitting at it were formed into silhouettes. There was a single chair placed to face the table.
What on earth is going on? she thought.
Julie couldn’t restrain an amused grin. In the full light, the grin was immediately apparent to what she instantly characterised as her ‘interrogators’.
This sure as hell is going to be different! she told herself before focusing on the panel of people in front of her.
She walked up to the chair and sat down.
‘Do sit down, Miss Kershawe,’ the voice in the centre of the three people said equably, the boldness of her action not seeming to bother him. It was almost as if he had been expecting her to be as positive.
Julie tried to discern something of the man in front of her against the bright light behind him; she didn’t get much of a chance.
‘James Frederick Kershawe, father, banker, Hong Kong resident for seventeen years.’
The man on the right of the chairman, as she looked at them, started off on a monologue that instantly got Julie’s attention.
‘Li Chou Yu, aka Alicia, married to said James Kershawe in Hong Kong thirty years ago. The daughter of a local Hong Kong businessman and entrepreneur, a university lecturer and a well-known opponent of Chinese Communism.’
Julie’s heart missed a beat; she had never heard her mother’s origins identified in such a way before.
‘Now resident in Ewell in Surrey, two daughters both born in Hong Kong but pre-Handover and British citizens.’
‘Julie Alicia Kershawe, twenty-five, single, UK Border Agency enforcement section, now unemployed.’
It was the man to the left of the chairman who was now speaking.
Julie hadn’t taken much interest in the body shapes in front of her. Now as the third man spoke she found herself concentrating very hard. It was the voice. She knew at once that she knew the voice. Where from? It was recent.
Everything was going at such a pace that she was momentarily seized with panic.
What is this all about?
And as the question formed itself in her mind she knew.
‘Alan you already know,’ the central voice said.
Alan she already knew!
The ocean-going cruiser that edged its way into the isolated inlet in the North Queensland coast had made its way across the Pacific in a series of careful stages calibrated to its needs for fuel and other supplies, but – having made the trip several times before – in an easy and trouble-free way.
That was a relief for the crew, although they well knew that the most difficult part of the long journey for their passenger cargo was still ahead of them. After their last trip they had received intelligence that the Queensland Police had been asking questions. A party of Brisbane students, partying in celebration, had seen their vessel, had been surprised by its size and luxury, and had shared their experience along with several very cold beers with the locals in a nearby pub. In a small community where everybody knew everything about everything, there was mild consternation that they had missed something interesting and unusual.
And what was interesting and unusual inevitably came to the notice of the local police. Equally in this case it also came to the notice of the owner of an out-of-town Chinese buffet restaurant in Cairns and thence a warning was sent to the operators of the mysterious ocean-going cruiser.
So, as the cruiser dropped anchor on its latest trip, precautions had been and were being taken, both onshore and on board, against any unexpected intrusion into their activities. The nervousness was understandable. The step-up from drugs, currency and other contraband to human cargo had been a first for the cruiser’s Chinese crew, one which was highly paid, but with risks that were commensurate with the high fee.
Alice Hou and her three companions had been set free from their packing case once the cruiser was well out to sea off the US west coast and out of range of coastguard vessels. Sightings of other vessels were rare; their route was chosen not only to manage their supply situation but also to avoid recognised shipping routes. Their only moment of concern was when they had crossed the path of a US aircraft carrier group, but this was more about making sure that the much larger vessels saw them and avoided them rather than any fear of discovery of their business activities. The fouled and evil-smelling packing case that the girls had initially travelled in had been dumped overboard and girls clothed from stocks held on the boat. Their ankles had been manacled but they had otherwise been left free in order that they could be used as slave labour in the service of the crew of the vessel.
Speaking a mixture of Spanish and English, the girls sought to cut themselves off from the crew and avoided speaking Mandarin Chinese unless addressed. It was the fearful and instinctive reaction of strangers in a frightening and seemingly hopeless situation. They each showed their fear in various ways. April Chang was almost terrified into rigidity to start with while Janice Liang seemed to be able to cope with her fears much better than the others. Alice and Janice gravitated together because of their better command of English. None of the girls did more than cooperate minimally with the crew, and only then when they were driven to it. Discipline was in the hands of a man that Alice Hou equated to her Canadian gang-master. He was unforgiving but, to the girls’ relief, rigid about the crew’s behaviour as well.
Despite the fact that escape was impossible, unless they sought to drown themselves, they were watched continually and locked up whenever their cleaning and cooking duties wer
e complete. They were separated at night. This was supposed to be as much for the girls’ protection as anything.
‘We don’t want damaged goods arriving in Australia,’ was the instruction.
And in the organisation that was moving the girls around the world such instructions were obeyed.
On approaching any of the ports of call, Alice Hou and her companions were generally restrained again and stowed out of sight below decks and in the bowels of the vessel. Accommodation had been prepared for as many as six girls to be hidden in this way.
Mobile phone calls were made the instant the cruiser had anchored in Australian waters. A practised sequence of actions was then initiated.
By the time the Queensland Police got wind of the arrival of the vessel it had already discharged its cargo of Chinese women and gone. Not, of course, that the police had any bankable evidence that that was what it was doing. Their inevitable assumption was that, if the cruiser was doing anything illegal, it was more likely to be drugs than people. People trafficking to Australia tended to be a much cruder activity, utilising barely seaworthy vessels rather than million-dollar yachts.
That was not to say that there weren’t people in Australia who knew much more about what was going on in the Queensland inlet than the people traffickers would have liked them to.
Of course, Julie already knew Alan. He was hardly someone whose physical attributes made him forgettable, although, as Julie realised later on, handsome as he was, his features were nonetheless surprisingly difficult to actually define beyond their Greek-god purity. It was something that mystified her.
And, of course, both the interrogators, and now Julie, knew that her having met Alan was not a coincidence.
Again, reaching into her past experience she also knew that she had somehow to gain leverage in the conversation that was to follow since they clearly knew a great deal about her.
‘OK, so I know Alan. Perhaps you’d like to tell me why he was sent to spy on me before this interview?’
‘Perhaps we wouldn’t!’
Beyond the initial courtesies it was the central figure’s first real entry into the interview. The response was curt but friendly enough to inhibit a protest from Julie.
‘You left the UK Border Agency because you were suspected of facilitating the entry into the UK of a number of people whose background was not well established and proved to be false, and the people in question have now all disappeared from the radar in the UK.’
It was another demonstration of their knowledge.
She clearly wasn’t going to get much time to wonder who these people were or how they knew what they knew. Except that the thought quickly surfaced with her that they had to be something official. There was no way that her brief conversation with Alan could have yielded the level of knowledge that they were displaying.
‘OK, so you know all that. What are you asking me? The police were clear that they didn’t have enough evidence to prove any case one way or another.’
‘Indeed not.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
A dialogue developed with the man on the right. As the light changed marginally, Julie could see that he was about forty, dressed in the sort of tweed suit that her father used to wear and with the sort of face that you would probably have forgotten within half an hour of last seeing him. From her dealings with MI5 and on the odd occasion MI6, she knew this guy was Security Service.
But again, why he was there and why she was being interviewed by him, she had no time to think deeply about.
‘Why did you rob the convenience store in Cambridge and then give the money to student charities?’
‘Jesus,’ Julie muttered, ‘where did that come from?’
‘Your friend Tariq set you up in that robbery. I guess it was a Rag Week prank to you, but he had your career and future in his hand nonetheless as a consequence.’
Julie had been here many times since had Tariq thrown her over. Until now, her brain just hadn’t let her accept that her relationship with him had been based on a simple piece of blackmail, simple and trivial, but she could see how Tariq had early on detected her sense of honour and loyalty to her father and mother and her desire not to let them down. In her straight-forward, schoolgirlish innocence, it had been a big deal and she had been easily manipulated. But now as the point was presented to her, dispassionately and openly, it all seemed rather silly; she suddenly had a sense of closure.
‘Yes, and the little shit exploited it whenever he wanted something and usually after sex.’
Julie heard herself say this with amazement. Closure was one thing, now she had made herself vulnerable in front of strangers.
The right-hand man didn’t seem to see it like that nor did he seem to want to exploit this perceived vulnerability.
‘Tariq was double-crossing his masters as well as you.’
It was another quick-fire switch.
The man spoke the words in some distaste as if it were schoolboy language rather than a statement from a senior Security Service officer.
Julie was leaning forward in her chair towards the man.
Masters! What’s he talking about? Julie couldn’t grasp the concept of Tariq having anyone he was subservient to; he was too confident in himself and too pleased with himself.
‘You let in a number of Arab men, said to be members of his family, and at least three Chinese girls. Am I right?’
‘It was only two Arab men,’ Julie said.
The interrogator didn’t pursue the point. The man appeared to have a different line of enquiry in mind. The body language and atmosphere intensified again and Julie sensed that they were now on to a subject where they were genuinely looking for new information. But Julie felt constrained to add more detail.
‘There were more than three Chinese women that I recall. There were also four Chinese men. All of whom Tariq wanted me to reject for the effect.’
‘Thank you, Julie. Despite your rejection, it seems that the men in question actually reapplied for entry elsewhere. They were key figures – your Border Agency colleagues believe there’s a labour importation scam and are still investigating.’
This wasn’t a surprise to Julie.
‘And all of these Chinese people have disappeared?’
‘Only the women. The men are gang bosses, gangmasters, or whatever you call them in the UK. They aren’t really our interest.’
A slight clattering and a cold draught made Julie pause and look around. The Chinese girl was arranging coffee on a discreetly lit table in a corner behind her.
Hell, now they’re on to the blow cold, blow hot bit, Julie thought.
Her past experience again made her familiar with interrogation techniques.
She was wrong.
As the three men questioning her emerged into the light, their whole attitude changed. It was if they’d decided to give her the job and she was now one of them. And as it transpired in the more informal conversation over coffee there really hadn’t been any doubt about her being employed by the Australian Security Service on a short-term contract. Even if nobody had yet broached the subject of what she might be required to do.
‘Mark Hallingford arranged for you to come to Australia. We have been working with him for some time.’
Julie was astonished. Almost every opening gambit in the conversation had come from nowhere. At least now perhaps an explanation was beginning to appear from the murk. Mark Hallingford had been her boss in Edinburgh; he had been very supportive when he had discovered Tariq’s manipulation and had indeed pointed her at Melbourne as a place to restart her life, even encouraged the switch of location. Now Julie was being told that the whole thing had been arranged.
How long the Border Agency had known about Tariq al Hussaini and his activities Julie would never learn. This was of only passing interest to the Australians. That he was seen as a dangerous young man even back in Iraq, she would never be told. That he covered his activities by involvement with a number of enti
rely innocent organisations again was hidden from Julie. The corner-shop robbery had, however, eventually rung alarm bells in official circles in London when it was picked up from the police database and checked out and referred to Baghdad. A waiting game had been initiated. Again, she was never likely to be told, but much of what had happened to her once Tariq al Hussaini’s activities had been identified had been engineered to keep him from suspecting that he was being watched. And as the authorities closed in on Tariq the situation had been ideal for inducing her to move to Australia. This was a piece of straight exploitation set up to meet an urgent need from the Australian Security Services. With her reputation and job prospects destroyed in the UK, her background and particular skills could then be used free of any official involvement.
Despite its limited interest to them, the three Australians, all of whom were privy to as much information as there was, acknowledged the cynical and cruel manipulation of Julie Kershawe, not only by Tariq al Hussaini, but also by the UK authorities. That was the business they were in, but it gave them just the operative that they needed.
‘It’s disappearing Chinese women that we need your help with,’ the centre man and chairman of the interview panel said.
‘People trafficking?’
Julie, of course, knew that this was happening; it was a major blight on modern society. One of her arguments of self-justification about letting the three Chinese women into Britain officially and openly had been that it would prevent them being sucked into the vice trade and other exploitative activities. But what had this to do with Australia? That she would find out when she met up with the people that she would be working with.
For the time being she couldn’t avoid a feeling of anticlimax.
The offer that was made to Julie was at once attractive and frightening. Julie was attracted and frightened.
Alan accompanied her to the lift and out of the building. It had been the weirdest interview that she had ever experienced and yet she had still come out of it with a contract with the Australian Government.
China Wife Page 4